A Moment in Time
by Langus
Summary: Time is a finite resource and for Holtzmann there just isn't enough of it. (Holtz & Erin have a heart to heart on the roof).


The night was warm and the city stretched on for miles below, its hum never ceasing. New York was the city that didn't sleep, and for Holtzmann it was a feeling she understood all too well.

Not long ago, their view of the city from the roof of the fire hall had featured a dozen messages of gratitude from the citizens of New York. In the time since, all but one had faded as people moved on and their lives continued their forward motion. Time didn't stop, even when you most wanted it to. It was a finite resource.

She'd become more aware of time since joining the Ghostbusters team - how little there was, and how quickly it passed. There was a sense of quiet panic that crept up in her from time to time, a feeling she just couldn't shake.

Logic dictated that her place here, as one of them, would come to an end someday. That was simply life and its ever-present need for change. It was what happened after that end that worried her. Would her life go back to what it'd been before? Would she have to re-learn how to be alone and the strength that it took?

With each day that passed, she felt that finish line drawing ever closer, the inevitable conclusion of this exceptional existence she was living. At times it made it difficult to breathe. Her chest would constrict in a way that no amount of stretching could release. And without breath she could not focus and without focus she couldn't do anything productive. So she came here, to a place where the world felt wide and open, and would collect herself together.

The door to the roof opened with a creak and Erin appeared, looking surprised to see Holtzmann there.

"Sorry, I didn't realize anyone else was up here," she said apologetically and turned to go, but at the last second thought better of it. "Mind if I join you?"

Holtzmann shook her head and fiddled distractedly with her yellow-lensed glasses.

"This view is really something, huh," Erin commented as she filled the empty spot next to her. "I should come up here more often."

"I like the sounds of the city," Holtzmann explained, and she could feel Erin's gaze on her. "It moves like a machine in perpetual motion."

"You're right," she replied after a time, "it does. I never thought of it like that before."

Erin gazed down at the traffic creeping by on the street below and rested her arms atop the roof ledge. "I hope I'm not interrupting you. It's just...Abby burnt popcorn in the microwave again. I warned her so many times not to walk away..."

"Back at the institute I re-calibrated the microwave so it ran at 1/10th the power," Holtzmann informed her, smiling as she reminisced. "It would've taken her an hour to burn popcorn."

"That's genius! Can you do that here?"

Holtzmann gave an answering nod and turned her gaze to the brightly lit city, her thoughts already a thousand miles away.

Erin was quiet for a while and then asked somewhat hesitantly, "Holtzmann...Do you like being a Ghostbuster?"

Her brow furrowed at the question, "Why-"

"It all happened so fast," Erin blurted out with a shake of her head. "The past few months have been crazy. There are days when I wake up and can't believe this is my life."

"I wouldn't trade it for anything," Holtzmann told her with certainty.

Erin looked relieved and nodded in agreement, "Me neither."

Her eyes lingered on the last remaining "NY 3 GB" sign and a faint smile crossed her lips.

"When did you start believing in ghosts?" she wondered with a curious look.

"About six months ago."

"Six months?" Erin calculated the dates back in her head and concluded, "You mean that day we went to the Aldridge Mansion?"

Holtzmann nodded and grinned at the memory, "That ghost ecto-projecting all over you was pretty convincing."

Erin made a face, "Really? That's what convinced you?"

Holtzmann laughed and toyed with her glasses before placing them atop her head. "That was the first time I had tangible proof spectres existed."

"It's hard to believe something if you haven't experienced it for yourself," Erin admitted quietly, her gaze distant. "I learned that the hard way."

"I would've believed you," Holtzmann insisted. "I would have secretly thought you were coo coo pants crazy, but I would've believed you if you told me you saw a ghost."

Erin glanced over, her expression softening, "I know you would have. You're a really great friend."

Holtzmann went quiet. Her eyes remained fixated on the spot where her hands were clasped tight together in front of her as she spoke.

"That day in the train tunnel, when the entity came at us, I ran," she admitted softly. "I left you behind."

She could feel Erin's gaze on her, but didn't dare lift her eyes to meet it. That seed of guilt had been eating away at her for months, reminding her that when it'd mattered most she'd looked out for herself first.

"It's okay," Erin said in time, and her hand settled lightly atop Holtzmann's arm. "I would have run too if I wasn't strapped to that machine. That ghost was super creepy."

"Third scariest thing on the train to Queens," Holtzmann quipped, parroting Patty's words from that day.

"Has that been bothering you? That you ran?" Erin probed, her hand tightening a little on Holtzmann's arm.

When Holtzmann remained stubbornly silent, Erin withdrew and wrapped her arms around herself.

"You know when I told you guys that story about the first ghost I ever saw? Well, I sort of left a part out."

Holtzmann lifted her head and turned it curiously towards Erin.

"That old woman used to scare the crap out of me when she was alive and it was even worse once she was dead," she explained with a shake of her head.

"I was terrified to go to sleep because I knew that every night I'd wake up and she'd be there, just staring at me with her mean old lady eyes. It scared me so much I wet the bed. Every night for almost a year, eight year old me wet the bed because I was terrified of a ghost."

"Every night for a year?" Holtzmann asked with a raised brow.

Erin shot her a warning look, "Don't you dare repeat that. Not even Abby knows."

"At least it wasn't poop though," she consoled her with a smirk clinging to her lips. "Those stains are a lot harder to get out."

At the sight of Holtzmann's shoulders shaking in silent chuckles, a reluctant smile crept across Erin's mouth until she cracked and gave a laugh. Sobering up a minute later she added, "Seriously though - don't say anything."

Holtzmann's hand went to her mouth and twisted an invisible key, "My lips are sealed."

"It doesn't bother me that you ran," Erin assured her. "Ghosts are scary. If they weren't, we wouldn't have a job."

Holtzmann straightened up and nodded, looking more at ease than she had just a few moments before, "Thanks, Erin."

A taxi blared its horn on the street below and the driver shouted an obscenity at a pedestrian jay walking in front of his car. The ghost-busting pair inhaled a simultaneous breath of New York air and slowly let it out.

"Do you think we should head in?" Erin asked in time and gave a glance over her shoulder at the door. "The others might start to wonder where we are."

Holtzmann shook her head, her eyes trained on the cars below, "I'm gonna stay a little while longer."

Erin nodded in agreement and leaned her arms casually atop the roof ledge.

"Hey, tell me more about that new device you've been working on."

Holtzmann's eyes brightened instantly, "What do you wanna know?"

Erin turned away from the city to give Holtzmann her undivided attention, "Everything."

The longer Holtzmann talked with Erin about plasma shields and particle streams, the less she noticed the tight feeling in her chest until it faded completely. Time might still be passing by, its motion never-ceasing, but at least there were moments like these. Ones that seemed to fill an hour in the space of no time at all.

Maybe that was the secret, she realized as she described how the superconducting magnets could be modified to better trap class 4 and 5 entities. She needed to hold on to moments like this one - moments that made her feel whole, and invincible, and part of something truly great - and never let them go.


End file.
